LOSING MY FATHER

I don't blog very regularly, do I?
Okay anyways, so I decided to do it today because... why not. I probably need it.
I guess I just need to vent about my father's passing.
And by that, I mean his death.
See, the thing to know about me is, I saw my father twice a year. Maybe once or twice more, but that was not regular. I flew down to Bangalore whenever I had my vacations.
He was 42 when he died. He died young.
This should not have surprised me. Or anyone for that matter. He was not very healthy. He smoked very, very regularly and had a series of conditions relating to the fact that he took a lot of medicines.
He was also bipolar, but I must admit, I never saw that as a part of him. I still don't.
He was smart, very smart. And creative. He was the one that encouraged me to write, take up blogging and tonnes of other things. He introduced me to bands and authors and so many other worlds. He took me places every time I visited, he was always so wonderful.
And even when he wasn't, when he was sad and low, there was something about him that was just so.. alive.
I can see how that might not make very much sense, but it's true.
I guess I just never thought I'd have to see him like that- and so soon, too- dead.
Just a week before his death, he was sitting with me. And he was talking to me about what should happen if he died- "If you ever do," I had said to him, then.
I never really thought about it- to be honest. I don't know, he's just my father, you know?
I mean, he is my father. He's supposed to be there when I move to Bangalore next year so I can spend quality time with him. He's supposed to help me paint my room and hang up posters and pictures and feature in more videos and vlogs with me. I'm supposed to do creative writing internships with him and counsel him on my novel ideas and poems. He's supposed to see me go to college, graduate. He's supposed to see me get married, he's supposed to approve of the man I marry. He's supposed to be a grandfather to my children- just like my grandfather had been for me.
To think that my children will never know what a beautiful, beautiful human being my father was.
It's not sinking in. Some part of me, I suppose, still expects him to call me and say something along the lines of, 'Ha. Got you. I'm back.'
Because that's the thing: he had always been there for me. And now he's just not.

On a happier note, though: Bless the good God for creating someone so perfect as Andy Biersack.

Dear Everyone

Let's talk about depression.
Depression can be hard, not just because of what you feel and go through, but because most people don't understand very often.
Depression is not always an emo girl or guy sitting at the back of the class, wearing all black and writing dark poems about death. Depression can be anything- the happy girl who wears bright dresses and the popular guy who just seems to have it right.
I don't want this to seem extremely cliche- sometimes, all you have to do is ask. A simple 'Are you alright?' may mean more to someone going through depression than you can ever imagine.
Let me tell you a little bit about when I was depressed.
I'd feel terrible about myself, my body and my life.
Nothing could make me feel any better or happier.
There were days when I'd skip school and stay at home- some weeks, more often than the others. Those days, I'd feel even worse than how I felt at most other times. I'd curl up in a ball on the floor and cry for hours- not knowing why.
Other days, when I did go to school, I was such a downer. I'd sit at my desk, drawing and writing and scribbling, not caring what was going on around me. I'd feel low- like down-in-the-dumps low all the time. And it was starting to get irritating.
And then, I hit an entirely new low- lower than the lowest I'd ever been. I started to snap at people too easily, and do thing and behave in a way I usually never did. I started to feel like life is worthless-like I am worthless.
I felt like I let people down too often and too easily.
I tried everything- I was seeing a therapist and whatnot, I tried talking to my mother about it. (PS.: Major thanks to my parents for helping me get through this)
I had one or two close calls, when I almost committed suicide. I don't know what held me back- but whatever it was, I'm glad it did.
I started to try. I didn't feel any better for a long time, but I tried talking about it with my friends and my father. That's when I finally started  to feel a little better.
Because everyone began accepting me the way I am- moreover, I began accepting myself the way I am.
I began thinking of what I want more than what others expect.
The sky didn't seem so dull anymore. Life was better.
And I'm not saying I don't feel like shit anymore- I still have days when I feel like throwing myself off the roof. But I've learnt to get through it.
\When that happens, I listen to my music and take hour-long walks in my building at night- and it's suddenly not all that bad.
What you have to do when you're depressed is, believe. Believe that you can get through it.
Believe that someone will understand you. If you doubt that even for a moment, think again. There always will be someone who is ready to help you- you only have to try.
Believe that there is something for you out there. Find what it is. Try new things. Excite yourself and distract yourself as much as you can.
Believe that it is all about you. Sure, that sounds narcissistic. But it is your life. Learn to put yourself before everyone else, because no one can possibly love yourself more than you.
And I'm not saying it's easy- it is not. it may take months for you to feel better but try not to give up.
And I'm not saying it'll go away forever either- it won't. You just have to take it one step at a time.

What Happened - A Tale Only Told In India

Here's what happened: we were having a blast playing hide n seek at priyanshus building when a few residents of the building were walking around taking rounds, and a few of them even helped us.
So, when it was Samruddhi and Jash's turn to search for us, me and Priyanshu were hidden in some bushes when suddenly the other three were calling out to is.
I noticed a strange man wearing a grey t-shirt nearing us. He asked us if he could play with us as well.
Khushi, in a rushed manner, told us that when she was hiding, a man had approached her, advising her to hide near the bathroom since Jash and Samruddhi were apparently coming her way. When she had stood up, he had backed her against a wall, taking hold of her both her shoulders rather forcefully, and pressed a hand to her chest.
He molested her.
His face was disturbingly near to hers and it was creepy, scary and angering for her all at the same time- this is what she told me.
She said she took some time to process what had just happened- she, an innocent 15 year old playing hide n seek- had been touched inappropriately by this man.
She pushed him off, and told him to get lost, immediately looking for Samruddhi and Jash, and then, me and Priyanshu.
It was then that I realised that is was that same man in the grey tee from earlier, but he had fled by then.
It was so shocking, I think I'm still in shock and it is so so disgusting.
And honestly, when we informed some of the adults, some of their reactions were surprising- she was being blamed, us girls were being blamed for dressing a particular way! We were being blamed for staying evening hours in a strange building.
But, in fact, it was our best friend's building and we have every right to dress as we wish.
And it is absolutely outrageous, how the government will put bans on porn, beef and maggi but the sentence for molestation is only 6 months jail time and around 2 lakh rupees bail ONLY.
What the fuck is the government going to do about what my friend has gone through?
Who the fuck is going to bring justice to her?
Should she go to the police, file an FIR, which could take months in itself, and get this man arrested only to have him released on bail? Should she waste her time so?
What is she to do?
I mean this could have been any of us. It could have been you, your daughter, your sister, your mother.
She didn't even dress provocatively, she wore simple jeans and a tee.
I don't even know what to say about this, but I just wanted this to be out there and so does she.
No one really realises how bad rape truly is. And molestation as well. How much Indian society and mentality is responsible for it and the way the girl is always blamed.
It is so completely pathetic.
Also, I fucking love you, Khushi Wadhwani. 

Irrational

Have you ever felt
The heat burn into your skin,
Like it's too unbearable,
Except the sun isn't shining.
It's just another dark night,
Just another broken dream
And a crumbled heart?
Does it ever feel like it's too much,
Like it could get worse,
But you're hanging
By this delicate little thread
Wishing you were dead?
Doesn't it ever not make sense,
At all and some more
And then when you start wishing,
That you had taken a different road,
A strong wind, swaying your affections, blows?
Don't you ever feel like it is too much
For a fragile girl
Still so naive, she doesn't know much.
It feels like forever,
But she's still so new to the world?
Some things, they're just
Made to not make sense.
You know, like humans and their emotions
And their minds, along with their hearts
That do devise plans so irrational.

Everyone Hurts.

She has no cuts on her wrists,
They see no marks, no slits,
Little do they know, she takes dangerous hits,
Blown everyday to a thousand bits.

He has no home,
His nose is bleeding, he feels so broke,
But those boys at school, they don't know,
He tries to smile, tries to grow.

She knows no good, nor no kind,
She knows what it's like to lose a child,
She shows no emotion, though they're running wild,
She cries over it every night.

He struggles with trying to keep away,
One little drop could lead him astray.
He asks God to show him the way,
his tired face dripping onto the ashtray.

She's small and naive, yet new to the world,
The sound of a car crashing, she heard,
She has no parents, not anymore,
Yet, she loves to hear the birds chirp.

You know, you know,
Everyone hurts.

How to Save a Life

Death comes to all those who wish for it; death comes to all those that dread it. No matter what, death comes to you. Death is inevitable. 

The good, the bad, the sinners, the saints- we all die. 

And lately, I've come to realise that, you know, there is nothing to fear, in death, if you've lived your life like it meant something, you know?

Yesterday, I went down with my friend, wanting to talk to her and chat her up a bit since she wasn't feeling so good, and frankly, neither was I. 

So, when I went down, right below my building, I noticed that the watchman wasn't there. 

When I went outside, I saw the watchman picking up a dog, and then placing him in from t of the building.

That dog, a bitch rather, had been living around my building for more than seven years now. 

My complex is home to a lot of strays, and this particular bitch- Rani, they had named her- was always, always below my building. 

She would come walk with me when I would take my own dog, Neo, down for a walk. She was the most harmless dog ever, the friendliest.

Everyone said that she had been like that for a few days now- she couldn't move, she kept walking in circles. 

We didn't know what it was- so my mother called Neo's vet, we tried calling a few agencies- no one was open, though.

Finally, we remembered that there was a government animal shelter nearby that was ought to be open. We took her there in my mother's car.

She kept shivering and trying to get up- and then she finally gave up and rested her head on my lap. 

When we went there, they said that the do for had gone home for he day, but they could take her in and make sure the do for takes a look at her first thing in the morning. 

So, we left her there- at 8.30, they tagged her, her tag was 81 Red. And then we left. 

I prayed, oh god, did I pray, that she'd be fine. 

I kept thinking, "I helped save a life today."

The night passed and I felt sick, so I did t go to school this morning. I kept thinking about what I'd do if this happened to Neo.

At about 11 today, my mother called me up. She asked me if I had done my homework. I told her I was still doing it. She asked me if my grandmother was home. I said no, she has gone down to the bank. She said, "I have bad news." 

My heart dropped as I hoped it wasn't what I thought it was.

"She died," she said. 

"She died," I repeated to myself, and the tears started streaming down my face.

I felt like it was my fault, like I could have done something more. But then, I did everything I could. 

And I just, realised how brutal life can be. Or rather, death. Or, you know, both. 

I had thought I helped save a life. 

I couldn't save her. 

Countless

Looking back now,

Will be for nothing.

Just close your eyes,

And feel yourself falling.

Compare yourself now,

To every star you ever counted. 

Let go of everything you had,

Of everything you ever wanted. 

See the world from far away,

See it as it is.

Live your life, by the day,

And there are so many people to live it with. 

There is no shame,

In shedding a few tears,

There is no other way,

But to overcome all of your fears.

There's a slim chance,

That you won't succeed. 

But an even slimmer chance,

You won't be freed.

So, go, give it a shot,

Slip and fall.

And if nothing else remains,

Countless memories is all--
Countless memories, like Polaroids in my mind,
That can't seem to find their way out.